Dark Mark (Harry Potter AU)
by ophidiae
Summary: Voldemort's attempt to find out the contents of the Prophecy at the Ministry was successful. However, upon hearing it he decided to interpret it in a very different way to Dumbledore. Harry Potter AU !darkharry !insanevoldemort
1. Chapter 1

**Extended Summary**

Voldemort's attempt to find out the contents of the Prophecy at the Ministry was successful. However, upon hearing it he decided to interpret it in a very different way to Dumbledore. 

Caught up between two warring Wizarding World factions Harry has to make a horrible choice between his friends and the magical community. But with Voldemort growing ever stronger and the Wizarding World ever weaker, the decision he makes will have a greater impact than even he knows.

 _Rated T for dark themes/ horror scenes._

 _Thanks for reading!_

* * *

 **Chapter One**

 _"Avada Kedavra!"_

Harry watched in stunned silence as Bellatrix's curse found its mark, hitting Sirius Black squarely on his chest. His Godfather's face slackened, eyes still wide with shock as he fell backwards into the mysterious archway that had haunted both Harry and Luna earlier.

In disbelief Harry darted forwards, hoping with all his heart that his eyes had lied to him and that Sirius was still alive. Yet when he reached the arch there was nothing to be seen; Sirius was gone.

Sinking to his knees, he blankly stared towards to spot where Sirius had disappeared, barely registering Remus' arm around his shoulder and the comforting words being whispered into his ear. Dimly he became aware of Bellatrix's voice gloating in the background, and a rage unlike any he had felt before filled him.

Struggling to his feet he wildly looked around, his eyes immediately focusing on the retreating form of Bellatrix Lestrange, her triumphant words ringing in his head with sudden clarity, "I killed Sirius Black, I killed Sirius Black!". Shocking Remus Harry lurched out of his embrace, sprinting towards the doorway through which Sirius' murderer had disappeared. Ignoring the frantic yells and pleads behind him Harry focused on one thought: revenge.

She led him on a wild goose chase through the Department of Mysteries, and his frustration grew as she continually managed to evade him, darting around corners just before she came into his spell range. Her mocking voice continued to torture him; comments belittling Sirius increasing his hatred further.

However, when she reached the Atrium she turned to face him - only to find a wand pointed in her direction.

"Crucio!" Harry yelled. The self-satisfied smile fell off her face as she was blasted to the floor by the force of the curse, her eyes round with fright as she curled up in anticipation of cruciating pain.

Yet it didn't come.

Shakily she picked herself off the ground and turned to Harry, a smirk curling at the corners of her mouth. "You have to mean it, Potter" she said, her voice breathless. Harry stepped forward, brow furrowed, raising his wand once more - when suddenly he stopped.

And stared.

Sirius' killer was kneeling before him, an arm pressed close to her chest in devotion and her eyes cast downwards. For a moment he wondered what it meant - then a horrible suspicion crossed his mind.

 _"Harrrry Potttter"_ a voice hissed, and slowly he turned round to see his greatest enemy standing before him; Voldemort had shown himself at last. The self-proclaimed Dark Lord's eyes were darting around as if searching for something before coming to rest on Harry's. Harry shuddered at the malevolence shown in those crimson eyes. "Give me the Prophecy Potter, or your friends will die" Voldemort said, his voice barely above a whisper as he made his true wish known.

"It's gone" Harry replied bravely, his wand trained on the evil Wizard before him. "Destroyed, like you will be when Dumbledore gets here".

Voldemort chuckled darkly, the sound eerie in the silent Atrium. "You think that Dumbledore's a Hero boy; he's not. Do not play games with me; now hand over the Prophecy".

"I told the truth; it's gone." Harry repeated

Voldemort's eyes locked onto his for a moment, and Harry felt a piercing pain in his scar. With a yelp he covered it with his hands, feeling liquid trickle down his fingers. With a lot of effort he tore his gaze away, breaking the contact, and to his relief the pain lessened.

"You tell the truth" Voldemort said, his voice dangerously calm. Harry could feel the terrible anger building in Voldemort's head, and braced himself once more as his scar once again began to hurt.

A loud 'crack' sounded and Harry turned his head sharply towards the place where Voldemort had been standing only moments before, now empty except for the dust still flying through the air. Another crack sounded from behind him and he swivelled round on his heel, only to come face to face with his nemesis.

His mouth opening in a wordless scream of horror and surprise Harry attempted to scramble away, but an invisible force kept him held in position. Snapping his mouth shut, he could only definitely stare forward - his wand hanging limply by his side, as Voldemort raised Harry's head and initiated eye contact.

Harry was suddenly drawn into his own mind, viewing memories he had long since tried to forget: Aunt Marge's dog chasing him up a tree; Aunt Petunia forcing him to cut his hair; Uncle Vernon locking him in a cupboard with stale bread and water... the memories seemed endless. Frantically Harry tried to stop Voldemort browsing his mind but his attempts were futile; Voldemort was too strong.

Finally Voldemort seemed to reach the memory he really wanted - the Prophecy. Harry had been too busy fighting Death Eaters when the Prophecy had smashed and the contents 'read out', but bleakly he realised he had been within hearing distance the entire time the apparition had been speaking.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."

Despite himself Harry was curious as he'd never heard the Prophecy before. As he thought over the words further dread filled him - the Prophecy seemed to clearly state that he must kill Voldemort, else Voldemort would kill him.

Yet as he focused on the connection between them he sensed a jumble of emotions coming from the dark Wizard: triumph, irritation, joy and even a little regret. Harry blinked; he hadn't expected Voldemort to be capable of regret. Yet that wasn't the thought that should've been foremost on his mind at that point - his feet were still locked in place with that unknown spell.

Voldemort stepped back a few paces and lifted his wand. Harry braced himself and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that Voldemort would make his end quick.

Voldemort did no such thing.

To his astonishment Harry found himself able to move. His eyes shot open as he looked at the dissatisfied face of the one who had released him. "Wha-" he stuttered, before snapping his mouth shut. A spell sprung to his lips, but the other wizard made a slashing movement with their wand, effectively stopping him in his tracks.

Voldemort's mouth curled up in an approximation of a smile. "The Prophecy is unclear" he said, prowling around the centre of the Atrium. "I must think on it."

Harry glared at him. Puzzled, he went to ask a question, and was cut off by the sound of another Wizard apparating into the room.

"Dumbledore" Voldemort spat, all chivalry gone from his voice.

"Tom" Dumbledore replied amicably, drawing his wand.

Voldemort stilled in silent rage, the two Wizards sizing each other up. He was the first to strike, with Dumbledore on the defensive, before soon the roles swapped round.

And kept swapping.

Harry watched in awe and worry as the two duelled, spells flying left, right and centre. Despite his Gryffindor side protesting against the inaction he stayed hidden; he knew he would only hinder Dumbledore, not help.

Minutes ticked by, and Harry grew increasingly anxious as Dumbledore was forced onto the defensive more and more. His mentor was struggling and it pained Harry to do nothing.

Voldemort had just summoned a serpent of fire with the apparent intent of wearing down Dumbledore when many loud 'pops' sounded - the noise of many different Wizards apparating into the Atrium.

The central Wizard gawped at Voldemort, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. "I-It's Y-You-Know-Wh-Who" Fudge stuttered in terror. Voldemort abandoned his serpent curse and in a flurry of his cloak and a small 'crack' appeared in front of Harry, reaching out a finger to touch his scar.

Harry yelled out as a burning pain spread from his scar throughout his body, tinting his vision red. As he struggled to remain conscious, the last thing he heard before he collapsed was Voldemort's triumphant voice.

 _"You are mine."_


	2. Chapter 2

**Extended Summary**

Voldemort's attempt to find out the contents of the Prophecy at the Ministry was successful. However, upon hearing it he decided to interpret it in a very different way to Dumbledore.

Caught up between two warring Wizarding World factions Harry has to make a horrible choice between his friends and the magical community. But with Voldemort growing ever stronger and the Wizarding World ever weaker, the decision he makes will have a greater impact than even he knows.

 _Rated T for dark themes/ horror scenes._

 _Thanks for reading!_

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

 _Harry did not know where he was._

 _He was in a city - of that he was certain. How he got there he did not know - the last thing he remembered was Voldemort's triumphant words and his Godfather's death._

 _Sirius._

 _His eyes would've filled with tears as he thought of his lost Godfather, yet he seemed to be frozen in place. Unable to mourn outwardly he did so inwardly instead, his heart breaking at the thought of never again seeing the man who had been the closest father figure to him._

 _As he was pining for his Godfather his head snapped round, as if of his own accord He saw that he was standing in a turfed-up Garden outside a monstrosity of a house - an imposing three story high concrete structure. Squinting he read the sign above the house's entrance: 'Wool's Orphanage, London' it read._

 _His mind turning rapidly he realised that this must be a dream - how else would he be in an orphanage?_

 _Beginning to relax, he found that he was now able to move. Slightly weirded-out by the strangeness of this dream he pinched himself in hope that he'd wake up, only to wince in pain when he did not. At this point he began to panic; if this was real, how would he get back to Hogwarts?_

 _A soft voice came to his attention and he strained his ears, hoping to work out where it came from. As the words became more auditable he noticed they had a subtle hiss to them and in a lightbulb moment he realised that he was listening to parseltongue._

 _His arm reached down and he could barely contain his shock as he struggled against the movement, once again confined to his mind; unable to move or control his body._

 _The parseltongue because clearer and his was soon able to make out words. "Mussst find food, mussst find ssshelter" it hissed. Spotting a small grass snake only two metres in front of him Harry felt his mouth open as he moved forwards, words tumbling out that were not spoken by him - words spoken with a different, childish voice._

 _"_ _I can help you" he heard the voice say and he watched as the snake's head snapped towards him._

 _"_ _How?" it replied distrustfully. Yet there was a small barely detectable note of hope in its question._

 _"_ _If you can teach me about this.. sssnake ssspeaking ability and help me work out how I can do this-" here Harry found his hands reaching forwards as with surprising ease he conjured a small light orb between them. "-I would be happy to aid you in whatever assssistance you would require"._

 _The snake seemed to consider this a moment. "You ssspeak the tongue and act older than your age - who are you really?"_

 _"_ _I have no parentsss. But my name's Tom Riddle."_

 _Trapped inside his mind unable to do anything Harry could do little more than internally scream at the horror of being forced into the young body of his Nemesis. Trying to calm himself he repeated the truth over and over again to himself._

 _'_ _I am Harry Potter'_

 _'_ _I am Harry Potter'_

 _'_ _I am Harry-"_

"HARRY POTTER!"

Harry's eyes snapped open and he came face to face with Dumbledore. Recoiling backwards in shock he froze, stunned, as he realised that he back in his own body and could once again move of his own free will. Standing up, he turned his hands over and stared down at them in wonder, before his eyes flickered to Dumbledore's.

A brief flash of pain was soon replaced by an expression of worry as Dumbledore surveyed him closely. Slightly disconcerted by this Harry took the opportunity to look round, eyes widening as he realised that they were still in the main Ministry of Magic atrium.

And they weren't alone.

"Harry, thank goodness!"

He rolled his eyes as Fudge frantically made his way towards him, a fatherly furrow in his brow. Harry wasn't convinced in the least by this acting - he still had many bitter memories of his treatment the past year by the Daily Prophet and more notably Fudge himself.

"Are you alright? Did Voldemort hurt you?" Fudge clucked like a mother hen, reaching up a hand to place it on Harry's shoulder while slyly glancing back towards the newly-arrived reporters. Harry shrugged his hand off roughly; he had no desire to participate in Fudge's theatrics.

Thankfully Dumbledore seemed to be in the same mood as he, for he sent Fudge a sharp glance before steering Harry away from the crowd and reaching into his pocket, withdrawing a sherbet lemon. Harry stared at it curiously and with a subdued twinkle in his eye Dumbledore explained 'it's a Portkey Harry'.

The understanding took just a moment to kick in and without hesitation harry placed him hand on top of Dumbledore's. His stomach lurched sharply with the jolting motion of the Portkey and he was grateful to let go of it when he reached the other end - Dumbledore's office.

Face to face with Phineus Nigellis Black's portrait.

He stumbled backwards as if he'd been stung, his eyes never leaving the portrait. There were many differences between Sirius and his Ancestors' looks, yet the family characters shone through with both of them - a painful reminder that Sirius was dead.

The first tear began to fall and he remained lost in thought for several minutes. When he came round Phineus had left the portrait - presumably tired of being stared at.

Harry remembered that he was not alone.

With no small amount of effort he turned round, to find Dumbledore watching ambiviently, his usually bright eyes dimmed from the aftermath of the day's events. A great well of fury rose up in Harry as he recounted the prophecy's words - a death sentence that the headmaster had kept from him for years.

His voice dangerously low Harry asked "why didn't you tell me?"

With unshed tears in his eyes and his head dipped Dumbledore replied "I cared too much about you, Harry. I'm sorry."

"SORRY? YOU IGNORED ME THE WHOLE YEAR AND NOW YOU'RE SORRY?"

Harry knew that his anger was irrational but in his grief he lashed out. In a slightly calmer voice he said "Sirius could've lived if it weren't for me".

Dumbledore's shook his head and stepped forwards, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. "The blame is not yours; it's mine" he said heavily. "If I had trusted and helped you earlier on Sirius would still be here."

He began to pace the length of his study.

"The Ministry saw Tom today - it's only a matter of time before the entirety of the wizarding world finds out that he's back. He'll be planning something-"

He broke off and stopped in his tracks. Harry waited with bated breath for his next words.

Twisting round Dumbledore looked at Harry. "What did Voldemort say to you?" Harry made to reply, but the words were lodged in his throat as he recalled Voldemort's strange words. "He just wanted to gloat" he muttered evasively, unsure as to why he was hiding the truth from his headmaster.

Dumbledore's eyes sharpened but he neglected to comment on Harry's lack of information. He stared intensely at Harry for a moment before moving away to the other side of the room. "You have evaded him yet again" he murmured pensively. "Tom will see that as a personal affront - more than ever before he'll target you. He'll stop at nothing to eliminate you as a threat."

His piercing gaze met Harry's as wearily he sunk down into a large armchair. "Your mother left a strong protection on you when she died - love. It stopped Voldemort from touching you in first year and keeps you safe in the summer holidays."

Harry's brow furrowed in confusion and he almost asked Dumbledore what he meant before he realised that the elderly wizard had not yet finished.

Dumbledore peered at Harry from over the top of his half-moon spectacles, his usually cheerful face somber. "As long as you remain with your Aunt and call her house Home, you are protected.

"I must insist you return there immediately - your safety is paramount" he announced grimly.

Harry wanted to argue - truly, he did. He hated the place that he'd grown up in with a vengeance and the people there weren't very far off scoring the same reaction. The idea of returning to his Aunt, Uncle and Cousin filled him with dread, as he knew that this summer - as with every summer - the bullying would increase. As the years passed Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon grew more afraid of his 'freaky' powers and ordered Dudley to 'beat' them out of him - a task that Dudley and his friends took to with relish.

Yet despite this he knew that Dumbledore spoke sense - remaining at Privet Drive would prevent Voldemort finding him. His friends' safety would increase from not having him around and they'd be able to relax without the extra security he'd be otherwise forced to endure. His anger all but gone he mutely nodded, not trusting himself to speak lest he change his mind.

Dumbledore's eyes softened with regret and he pointed his wand at another Sherbet Lemon. "Portus" he murmured and the sweet briefly glowed.

Harry reached out to take it, preparing himself for the unpleasant sensation that accompanied travel by Portkey. As he felt the familiar tug in his stomach he heard Dumbledore whisper "it's only for a couple of months."

The next thing Harry saw was the inside of the Kitchen of number 4 Privet Drive.

The next thing he heard was Aunt Petunia's horrified scream.


	3. Chapter 3

**Extended Summary**

Voldemort's attempt to find out the contents of the Prophecy at the Ministry was successful. However, upon hearing it he decided to interpret it in a very different way to Dumbledore.

Caught up between two warring Wizarding World factions Harry has to make a horrible choice between his friends and the magical community. But with Voldemort growing ever stronger and the Wizarding World ever weaker, the decision he makes will have a greater impact than even he knows.

 _Rated T for dark themes/ horror scenes._

 _Thanks for reading!_

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

Harry's return to Privet Drive wasn't pleasant.

Once Aunt Petunia had gotten over her shock at seeing him suddenly appear from thin air she'd immediately started yelling at him, her anger comparable to Uncle Vernon's fury when Harry had blown up Aunt Marge two summers ago. She'd ranted for a while, then doled out the inevitable punishment - a week in his old cupboard with bread and water for breakfast, lunch and dinner. The only exception to his confinement was when the Dursleys wanted him to do chores - in this scenario he was let out, however only for as long as it took him to complete his duties and not a moment more.

In short, it was a pretty miserable existence.

As he sat on the rickety bed in the locked Cupboard Harry thought about how much - yet also how little - his life had changed in the seven days since he'd faced Voldemort at the Ministry. A week ago he'd been fighting for his life and his friends' survival - a small selfish part of him wished that something similar would happen so that his boredom would be alleviated.

On the other hand, the part of him that desired to save his friends from any hurt or harm was prevalent; hence why he was now staying with his Aunt and Uncle despite the Hogwarts' holidays having not started.

He wondered what Dumbledore had told his friends in regards to his sudden disappearance. Harry supposed it didn't matter - as long as they knew he was safe that was the main thing.

A loud banging noise on his cupboard door startled him out of his musings. "Get up!" the shrill voice of Petunia Dursley screeched and Harry let out a long sigh, kneeling on his bed to reach the tiny shelf on which his suitcase and clothes lay and promptly banging his head on the underneath of the stairs.

Rubbing it he winced as he felt a twinge of pain run through his scar. It was gone as soon as it had come, but still Harry was surprised and worried about the revelation that he could still sense Voldemort's emotions, despite the fact that Voldemort now knew about the connection. His anxiety increased as he wondered if that meant that Voldemort could sense his emotions through the connection - something he'd rather avoid happening after the self-proclaimed Dark Lord's queer words last time they'd met.

Thankfully Harry hadn't had any more strange dreams since he'd had the lifelike dream-vision of himself as a younger Voldemort and he had no desire to repeat the experience.

Although as he heard the sound of a key turning in his cupboard's lock he thought that he'd take another dream over the sight that greeted him.

Uncle Vernon looked _livid_.

"BOY!" he roared, his face red with exertion. Harry gulped and just stared at his Uncle, not daring to speak. However when Vernon roughly grabbed his arm and began manhandling him into the hallway and up the stairs Harry began to protest; "I don't know what-"

"QUIET!"

They crossed the upstairs landing and Harry was shoved into the Master Bedroom - his cousin's room. Shaking with the after-effects of shock and utterly confused he was about to turn round and ask his Uncle what the matter was, when the words died on the way to his mouth.

A small snigger escaped before he could stop it and wide eyed he clapped his hand over his mouth as he backed away, muffling the noise.

Dudley was pink.

Not a neon, yucky kind of pink - a nice, tasteful dark burgundy-pink.

But still pink.

His skin, his clothes, his hair; all _pink_.

And he was furious.

Harry couldn't help it anymore; he had to laugh. Tears streamed down his cheeks in mirth as with horror he tried to stop himself, terrified of facing the consequences he'd incurred. He had no idea how Dudley had become pink, but he had a strong suspicion that Magic had something to do with it. And despite the fact that he hadn't done anything there was only one Wizard in the house - it wouldn't take Dudley long to put two and two together and make five, assuming that Harry was the culprit.

And assume he did.

Harry had barely a split second's warning before Dudley lunged forwards, but it was enough. Dodging his cousin he bolted out of the room, ignoring Uncle Vernon's shouts and Aunt Petunia's grasping arms as he made for the door, wrenching it open and slamming it behind him before anyone could follow.

Chest heaving he ran down Privet Drive like a Madman, uncaring of what the Neighbours thought of him; they all thought him a criminal anyway. Mind whirring he made for the one place he knew of outside of his old primary school - the park.

When he reached the park he slowed down, his breath coming out in uneven pants as he doubled over, bracing his arms on his knees as he struggled to calm himself down. Collapsing on a bench he finally had a chance to look round at the empty space around him and contemplate the sheer stupidity of his actions.

Dumbledore had told him about his relatives' protection - as long as he was within the boundaries of their home he would be safe from those who wished him harm - specifically, the death eaters. By impulsively leaving he'd let down his mentor and put himself at risk.

He felt ashamed of himself and tears clung to his eyelashes as he wondered what Sirius' reaction would be. Although thinking about it, Sirius would probably have slapped him on the back and congratulated him on Dudley's transformation - even though he hadn't done it.

The thought bought a small smile to his face, which quickly vanished as he realised that someone must have cast the prank spell on his Cousin.

But who?

With all his heart he wished that it was a member of the Phoenix, although he couldn't see why one of them would put him at risk of being expelled from Hogwarts by the Ministry. Yet at least he could guarantee it wasn't the death eaters - they had no way of bypassing the protection charm. The thought of them using a simple prank spell on a Muggle was also ridiculous.

Harry's mirth was broken as a twig snapped behind him. In one fluid motion he rose up and twisted round, his shaking hand grasping his wand as he pointed it towards the source of the noise.

There was nothing there.

Harry's well-honed instincts told him that he shouldn't let his guard down; something bad could be just round the corner. Yet, as he saw a cat skulk out from behind a bush near to the origin of the snapping sound he let himself relax a little, sinking back onto the bench and staring forward with unseeing eyes.

Time passed. He didn't realise how long he'd been out until he noticed the lengthening shadows cast by the surrounding trees as the sun began to set. With dread he realised that unless he intended to stay homeless without protection he'd have to go back to his relatives house.

Standing up, he stretched and was just about to leave his spot when an unwelcome familiar voice entered his hearing. "He's here somewhere..."

Heart thumping Harry dived behind the bench, peeking through a small gap in the wooden slats as Dudley and his best friend - Piers - came into view. Dudley was back to his normal state which solidified Harry's belief that something wasn't right with this whole scenario.

Caught in his thoughts, Harry didn't notice that his cousin had passed the bench until it was too late. As they locked eyes Harry staggered and stood, then bolted as he registered the furious expression on his Dudley's face.

"Oi, get back here!"

Harry promptly ignored his cousin's yell, choosing rather to try and put distance between them. But he's forgotten about Piers and that was his downfall as he was caught in his tracks and knocked roughly to the ground. As he landed a sharp pain laced his side and he cried out in shock before clamping his teeth together, determined not to make another sound.

Piers and Dudley had their heads bowed, murmuring something indecipherable to each other - whatever it was, Harry assumed that it wasn't good news for him. He was proven right as Dudley came over and without warning kicked him in the stomach; Piers quickly followed suit.

Long minutes of this behaviour passed and Harry at his eyes squeezed shut as he silently prayed that the torment would cease soon. Luckily for him it seemed that his bullies had become bored with his lack of reaction to their abuse.

Harry dimly heard Dudley order: "pick him up and drag him back - Mum said he's making dinner tonight". His head lolled to the side as Piers - or at least he assumed it was Piers - picked him up by an arm and tugging Harry along behind him as his abused body screamed in protest.

In his subconscious state Harry heard a small _'pop'_ \- he paid it no attention, his mind primarily focused on the difficult task of not passing out before he reached his relatives' house.


End file.
